Emotional Scars
by chorus
Summary: Set later in the night after S04E21, The Ruby Slippers. Cho's emotions almost overwhelm him; Lisbon's emotions do. Then she drops a bombshell. Mild slash m/m .


Emotional Scars

disclaimer: I own nothing Mentalist. I just write about it.

A/N: Set later in the night after S04E21, The Ruby Slippers. Cho's emotions almost overwhelm him; Lisbon's emotions do. Then she drops a bombshell. Mild slash (m/m).

Emotional Scars

He made two phone calls. The first was difficult, it started with "Don't come over tonight," and would have escalated to an argument had he not reached his breaking point and yelled. The second call was much easier: "All clear."

Patrick Jane let himself in while Cho was still in the kitchen. He sat down just as Cho came in with a tray bearing a kettle, some cups and silverware. Placing it gently on the table, Cho didn't sit but rather paced about.

The Mentalist understood. Murder cases were almost always painful, this one more so because of it's unusual nature. There actually hadn't been a murder, it had been staged, but the circumstances around this fake murder had dredged up painful memories not only for Cho, but for Patrick as well.

"How do you do it?" Cho stopped and asked, his face etched with pain. "We just dealt with a trifecta of cruelty, a homophobe, a sexual predator, and the worst, a cruel father. Yet you sit there cool and calm." He threw his hands in the air and started pacing again.

While Jane didn't know the whole story, he knew enough of the reasons why his friend was agitated. Growing up in San Francisco, a town known for its acceptance of practically everything, Cho had been taunted with insults about his Asian heritage. That hadn't been the worst of it, though: because of his slight build and his awkwardness, he'd been called "sissy" and more. When his body started puberty, Kim decided to help it along by exercising and lifting weights. No matter how bad he might do, he threw himself into boxing, wrestling, any kind of physically demanding sport.

The downside to his effort was that he went from being a shy guy to a tough guy, often getting in trouble with the law. The military helped him find his way. He liked the discipline, making order from chaos, tranquility through regimen. He developed a respect for himself, a respect for others, and a respect for right and wrong.

Patrick patted the cushion next to him. "Come sit down, Kim, have some tea." His own cup sat before him, steeping. "Talk to me."

Cho wasn't ready to sit down. "The father! What an animal! Handcuffing his son to the chair!" The cop shook his head. "That homophobe coworker! I wanted to shove him into the box crusher! And that-" He stopped pacing and seemed to collapse in on himself. "That, that, sexual predator!" he croaked.

Jane went to his friend and took him in his arms. Cho was taking slow, deep breaths, a man trying to regain control of his emotions. Jane held him tightly. "Who was it?" he asked softly.

Kimball Cho was not someone who easily trusted people. When he'd first met Patrick Jane, he was convinced the man was nothing more than a cheap con artist. Over time, though, he'd come to respect Jane's abilities and perceptiveness. He'd also developed an admiration for Jane's integrity. Slowly he'd come to trust Jane, to the point that Patrick Jane was the only person to know that Kim liked both women and men. While Jane might be silly about it when they were alone together, Jane respected both his own and Cho's privacy the rest of the time.

Patrick Jane was the first man Kimball Cho had ever slept with.

Now Jane was massaging his shoulders, easing him down on the couch. Jane repeated his question. Cho looked up, his eyes deep wells of pain.

Like a bad tv show, just then there was a knock on the door. Instantly, Cho stiffened, and Patrick could tell he was pushing his pain down, locking it away. Cho shook his head, stood up and went to the door.

Teresa Lisbon looked tired, almost weak. She was carrying a six-pack. "I'm sorry to bother you so late, but I just needed to-" She saw Cho's guest.

"Lisbon." Jame smiled.

"I'm sorry, I should just go," Lisbon said, obviously flustered. She turned around.

"Wait. Come in," Cho said.

"No, no, that's OK," protested Lisbon.

"Would you just come in and sit down?" Jane exclaimed, amused. Lisbon handed the six-pack to Cho and fell into the easy chair. Jane leaned forward. "We're all affected by this case," he said. "I'll bet you're having a hard time with the drag queens."

"Jane, the hard time you think I'm having with the drag queens has nothing to do with their lifestyle," Lisbon said, exasperated. "I'm impressed with them! They're fighters, survivors! And some of them are more feminine than Van Pelt!"

"Where is she, by the way?" asked Cho, still standing.

Lisbon smiled. "Down at the club, getting makeup tips!" The men chuckled. "That's better than Rigsby, I guess," she continued. "He's down at the all-night gym trying to destroy the punching bag."

Jane's smile got wider. "He'll be alright. So what's eating you?"

"The cruelty of this case," sighed Lisbon, leaning further back into the chair. "The brutal father. The sexual predator stringing the kid out on meth." She looked at both men. "You know if it weren't for people like us, the innocent wouldn't suffer, they wouldn't exist! They'd have been demolished a long time ago!" A tear escaped her eye and trailed its way down her cheek.

"You, too?" Jane asked, a hint of knowing in his voice.

"Not me, my sister." Another tear fell. "None of us knew until we saw the note."

"The note?"

"The suicide note," whispered Lisbon.

Cho moved behind Lisbon and started massaging her shoulders, while Jane knelt by her side and took her hand. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Lisbon's free hand balled up into a fist and pounded the chair. "My father said her suicide was a cowardly thing to do. I told him what was cowardly was treating somebody so badly they wanted to end their life!"

The tears burst forth as Lisbon cried on Jane's shoulder. Cho went to the kitchen to heat more water for tea while Jane held his friend, making soft cooing sounds. Presently she regained control of herself, and Jane pulled out his handkerchief. A few minutes later Cho appeared with a cup of tea, which she accepted gratefully.

"I'm sorry, guys. I should probably leave, as you were probably ready to get down and dirty when I showed up."

Cho dropped the teapot.

Lisbon looked annoyed. "What? You think I don't know? You think I don't know that Cho has a C.I on one hand and you on the other?" she glared at Jane.

"Well, I guess there's no point denying it." Jane said. "How did you know?"

"I've got eyes!" Lisbon replied a little defensively. "I know how to add two plus two! Look, the way you guys ignore each other at work, it usually means one of two things. One, you don't like each other. Two, you're carrying on secretly. I happen to know you like each other. That leaves the other option." She smiled at them.

"How did you figure out the C.I.?" asked Cho.

"Duuuuhhh! She calls you constantly? She shows up at the office and you behave like a scared rabbit? Give me a break!"

Lisbon continued, "Hey, I know what the rules say, but you guys are good and I know it won't interfere with your work. However." She fixed her gaze on Cho. "I suggest you be damn careful with your C.I."

Even though it went against Kim Cho's mindset, he wanted to make a point. He walked to the couch, sat down and took Jane's hand. "I'll be damn careful with both."

Lisbon wasn't fazed. She stood up. "Good. Be safe, too. See you tomorrow."

Alone again, Cho kissed Jane, a long, lingering, full-of-desire kiss. "You better be damn careful with me, too." he said to Jane.

"I damn well will!" Jane smiled. They kissed again.

The earlier pain was no more. Now, two men slowly removed clothing from each other, a process punctuated by kisses and caresses. Down to their underwear, they drank in each other's masculine beauty. Cho rubbed Jane's shoulders while Jane's hands explored Cho's body. Finally, Jane's hand reached inside Cho's shorts.

Cho smiled. He took Jane's hand out of his shorts, and put it in his own hand. Switching off the lights, he led Jane to the bedroom.


End file.
